


Day 3: Insecurity/Confidence

by gorgawesome



Series: Shance Week 2k16 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Lance has a cure for that, M/M, Shiro is thinking too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgawesome/pseuds/gorgawesome
Summary: Shiro has many scars. He's not sure how he got some of them and he's not sure where, but that's ok.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read on it's own, or as a follow-up to the previous story.

Shiro had never lacked in confidence before. It was not something he particularly even thought of, focused on his studies as he had been back at the Garrison and then being chosen to lead the Kerberos mission. He just never had the time to examine if there was anything about himself that he had any hung-ups about. So many years of his life went by so fast. A blink and it was all gone.

He fought for his and the Holts' life as the champion in Galra's gladiator ring, not given enough time to take stock of his scars and his limb replaced with the Druids' creation. He forced it to work for him, he learned quickly how to use the weapon his body had become to his advantage. Not a day went by when he had the luxury to focus his thoughts inwards, to even remember the faces and names of his loved ones.

And then, he met Lance.

Lance was everything he wished he could be. He was loud, boisterous and carefree. Shiro was drawn to that boundless energy. Lance was a ray of optimism, even in the face of the cross-galactic war they found themselves in the middle of. 

Shiro wasn't sure how he managed to catch the eye of someone so beautiful and happy. 

He never before had much time for introspection, but now, in the quieter moments of undefined time, while everyone else slept, Shiro found himself lost in thought. He took stock of all the scars marring his flesh, the raised, white lines and deeper gouges that Lance's fingers so often explored, carressed as if willing them smooth. He trailed his fingers around the edge where his arm met the prosthetic, feeling along the scarred edge, the transition from flesh to cold, dead metal. He shivered, drawing his fingers back, curling them into a fist instead. His flesh hand was a weapon too, he reminded himself, forcing himself to remember the blood that had stained his knuckles so many times that he felt it was imprinted into his flesh by now. The tight, powerful fist with rough, calloused fingers that got to touch Lance, feel his youthful smoothness, his body untouched by war and tragedy.

He wondered what Lance saw in him. How the young man ever managed to look past the scars and the broken man, to find something he loved, was beyond Shiro.

He startled when he more felt than saw soft, gentle hands taking his fist, coaxing it open and relaxed, to take Shiro's fingers and press them to sleepily smiling lips.

"You're thinking too loud for this early in the morning." Shiro felt Lance's lips move against his fingers as the other spoke.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He whispered back, tracing the bow of Lance's lips with the pad of his thumb, his breath a shaky sigh when Lance pressed a kiss to the roughened skin.

"Just sorry won't cut it." Lance teased, reaching up to pull Shiro down, his arms wrapping around him, warm and encompassing Shiro's back. Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss, Lance's moans coming out more as soft sighs as he ran his hands up to Shiro's shoulders, to pull him in closer.

"Man, how'd I ever get so lucky." Lance murmured, guiding Shiro with gently touches, with the way his body shifted to accommodate Shiro's weight on top of him, his legs spread around Shiro's hips.

"What do you mean?" Shiro frowned, grunting when Lance rocked his hips against him. Lance never failed to get him hot and wanting embarrassingly fast. A touch here, a suggestive smile there and Shiro was ready to lay down at Lance's feet.

"Dude..." Lance chuckled. "You're so hot. You're way out of my league. I just-" He bit at his lip, letting his eyes trail over what he could see of Shiro under the cover of darkness. He huffed out a quiet laugh as he raised his hand to smooth Shiro's frown out with his thumb between the man's brows. "You're everything that I thought I had ever wanted to be. Handsome, smart, well-regarded, loved by all, a natural leader." He murmured, winding his arms around Shiro's neck as he nuzzled against the man's cheek. "I thought I wanted to be you, when instead it was to be _with_ you." 

Shiro smiled, laughing against Lance's neck, which no doubt still bore the marks that he'd left just a few hours earlier. "So cheesy this morning." He sighed as they rocked slowly against each other, letting pleasure build slowly, leisurely.

"I mean it though." Lance insisted.

Shiro quieted him with another kiss, but not for long before Lance was moaning when Shiro's flesh hand wrapped around their hardening erections. 

If there was one thing Shiro had unshaken confidence in, it was in his ability to make Lance come apart under him. His calloused fingers were able to make Lance tremble and to bring him to many a shattering orgasm. His lips had Lance moaning and writhing in pleasure and his body kept Lance warm and breathless. Lance loved pulling Shiro down on top of him, to feel his full weight pressing him down into the mattress. He said it made him feel wanted and safe. And Shiro would give Lance anything he wanted and needed to make him feel that every day for the rest of his life.

He shivered at Lance's choked off moan and the nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around them both, stroking harder and faster. Lance's hips thrust up into his hand, looking so beautifully lost in the need and the desire. Shiro brushed his lips along the smooth column of Lance's neck, feeling his moans vibrate. "Come for me, Lance." He purred, sucking another mark just under Lance's jaw, squeezing his hand around them both. He thrust to Lance's rhythm, knowing he wouldn't last long himself.

"Shiro. Oh god." Lance whimpered, arching up as much as he could with Shiro's body pinning him down, gasping raggedly when he came, his hips twitching up into Shiro's grip. He moaned softly, threading his fingers into Shiro's hair, kissing him, swallowing all of Shiro's gasps and grunts.

Shiro followed Lance, painting their joined bodies with his cum, smearing it along with Lance's between them as he continued to steadily rock up into his hand, Lance whimpering under him from over-stimulation. He flicked his tongue over Lance's parted lips, letting go of their softening cocks, so he could run his fingers through the mess they made.

"We should take a shower." He hummed, smiling when Lance chased after his lips. "Later." Lance purred, fingers trailing over Shiro's muscles, lightly gliding along the man's many scars, memorizing every detail of Shiro's body all over again.

Shiro maybe didn't think much of himself. Maybe he had some insecurities. But did it really matter when Lance looked at him like he was his whole world?


End file.
